


Purple Lipstick

by whitherwaywill



Series: one chapter wonders [13]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Girls Kissing, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Past Relationship(s), i can't write smut, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25556818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitherwaywill/pseuds/whitherwaywill
Summary: Hermione's newly single, and she's decided she's taking a break from boys. Cue Pansy Parkinson.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson, past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley - Relationship
Series: one chapter wonders [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1689838
Kudos: 55





	Purple Lipstick

"Some people say that you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. Those people are stupid."

Hermione blinked owlishly at Pansy. She had been drinking long enough for everything to be pleasantly fuzzy. Everything, including _how_ she had started talking with _Pansy Parkinson_ at one of Diagon Alley's dive bars.

She knew _why_ , at least.

Breaking up with your boyfriend of five years calls for drinks,and some experimenting.

Pansy looked amused, waiting for a response. Hermione hiccupped, remembering that they had been in the middle of a conversation when she spaced out.

Right. Where were they? Something about flies, and honey – but logic didn't follow, because Hermione was _fairly_ certain she had just finished expounding on Ron's annoying quirks, and the blowout argument that had resulted in their breakup.

"What does that have to do with Ron?"

"Entrapment," Parkinson said flatly. Her bright purple lipstick shone in the low lighting.

"Um." Hermione thought she was a bright woman, so she wasn't sure why she was having difficulty following Pansy. "The… flies? And honey? Are entrapment?"

Pansy elegantly shrugged – Hermione hadn't known a _shrug_ could be elegant – one shoulder gracefully rising and falling. "If you think about it. You're normally vinegar, so you try to disguise yourself with honey. But eventually, the flies will eat their way through the honey disguise and get to the vinegar. By then, you're already committed. It's too late, and he hates you – so, entrapment."

Hermione blinked. "Are you drunk?"

Pansy's purple lips twitched. "Are you?"

"I must be," Hermione said, "because you aren't making a lick of sense."

"I am making perfect sense, thanks," Pansy said. She raised her glass to her lips, leaving a purple stain on the rim. "You're vinegar, so stop trying to pretend you're honey."

Hermione sighed melancholily.

"You haven't _actually_ broken up, have you?" Pansy asked, eyes shrewd. "The media hasn't reported any troubles in paradise."

"We have," Hermione said quickly. "Ron and I just aren't interesting enough."

"Two members of the Golden Trio, engaged?" Parkinson's eyes glittered. "You're big news. They'd be _very_ interested in your break-up, especially in why you chose _this_ bar to drown your sorrows."

Hermione's brow furrowed. "What's wrong with this bar?"

Pansy smirked, like she was about to drop a bomb she thought would make Hermione _inconceivably_ uncomfortable. "This is a bar for boys who like boys, Granger. And girls who like girls."

"Oh," Hermione waved a hand. "I know."

Pansy's smile faded, nonplussed. "You… know?"

Hermione nodded vigorously. "I know boys – I've dated boys. Viktor, Ron – I even hooked up with Malfoy, did you know? Anyway, I've decided I need to research more."

"Research?" Pansy echoed, dumbfounded.

"Research," Hermione confirmed. "Theoretically, I like girls, but I've only ever kissed _one_. I'd like to change that."

Parkinson couldn't suppress the flicker of surprise that crossed her face. Hermione grinned.

"Your lipstick is a nice colour. Do you think I could pull it off?"

Pansy raised her eyebrows. "D'ya think you could?"

Hermione pursed her lips. "Well, only one way to find out."

She leaned forward, kissing Pansy straight on the lips.

Pansy gasped, but she quickly relaxed, returning the kiss, before she leaned away. Hermione backed off.

"What do you think?" she asked breathlessly.

For a moment, she thought she might have done something wrong. Then Pansy's lips curled into a smile. "There's not enough on your lips for me to tell."

She pulled Hermione back in, and then Hermione was making out with Pansy Parkinson.

Hermione ran her fingers through Pansy's hair, shivering when she bit her lower lip. Pansy drew her out of her barstool, until she was pressed up between her legs, ankles linked behind Hermione, guiding her closer. Her hands slid underneath Hermione's shirt.

The chill of Pansy's hands was like a shock of reality, biting through Hermione's intoxication.

She drew back.

Pansy immediately unlinked her legs, a cool, indifferent mask sliding down over her face. She wiped the side of her lip with the edge of a finger, clearing a purple smear of lipstick.

"I don't have a roommate anymore," Hermione said, apropos of nothing.

Pansy could read between the lines. She reached for her purse, drawing out a vial.

"What's this?" Hermione examined the small vial. Presumably, it was some sort of potion, but she wasn't certain what.

"Sober-up," Pansy said, watching her carefully. "Take that, _then_ you can invite me back to yours."

Hermione observed the vial. Some distant part of her brain objected - who _knew_ if the potion inside was what Parkinson said it was? Was Hermione _really_ going to drink something a Slytherin, notorious for attempting to turn in Harry Potter, offered her?

Well, Ron _was_ always saying Hermione wasn't spontaneous enough.

She uncorked the cap, and downed the vial. Pansy watched, bright purple lipstick shimmering. The velvety edge to the evening dissipated quickly, and Hermione's thoughts became sharper.

She was sober, and she still wanted to take Pansy Parkinson home.

Hermione quirked an eyebrow, slapping some galleons down for her tab.

"Would you like to get out of here?"

No matter how surprised she was, Parkinson barely batted an eye.

"Yes."

The next morning, Hermione woke up to an empty bed. She was unsurprised. They were both sober, they had a good time, but Hermione was under no illusions that Pansy Parkinson would be in the market for more than rebound sex.

Hermione sighed, replaying the highlights in her mind.

It had been a good time.

Rolling over, she patted the nightstand, searching for the glass of water she was certain she had left there last night, before she left to get drunk. Her hand knocked over a small cylindrical object.

It was purple lipstick. Hermione recognized the shade Pansy had been wearing the night before.

An address was written in flawless calligraphy, with a short note.

_If you wanted to floo,_ was all it said.

Hermione grinned, twirling the lipstick in her hand.

She wanted to floo.


End file.
